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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28843557">it could only be this, here, now</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/whateverliesunsaid/pseuds/whateverliesunsaid'>whateverliesunsaid</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>a crash course in human experiences [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Fluff, Romantic Gestures, What could've been, honestly dude dont even know, its just them discussing alternative lives</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 03:33:44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,273</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28843557</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/whateverliesunsaid/pseuds/whateverliesunsaid</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>If reality were a tree whose branches spread out far and wide, every leaf being a lifetime, Bella knows that every leaf where they aren’t together is brown and fallen at the autumn of their love. </p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Edward Cullen/Bella Swan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>a crash course in human experiences [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2112324</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>it could only be this, here, now</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>these are bits and pieces of other stuff i had written that never went anywhere put together because i had nothing better to do with my time, honestly</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I can’t imagine a version of myself that would not love you.”</p><p>If reality were a tree whose branches spread out far and wide,every leaf being a lifetime, Bella knows that every leaf where they aren’t together is brown and fallen at the autumn of their love. Her cheeks felt warmer, suddenly, as they often did around Edward with his ability to say the right words at the right times, winning reactions only he is able to pull from her.</p><p>She turns the page swiftly, devoting all her attention to the movement of her fingertips, the well read worn pages revealing themselves too familiar to keep her fully occupied when she’s so aware of his body. His overwhelming <em>presence </em>and attention turned on her completely<strong>: </strong>molten copper-colored eyes scanning her smallest of changes, the reactions she thought to be best concealed coming undone before his gaze. As long as he would look at her like that, Bella could scarcely picture an universe where she wouldn’t react <em>exactly like this</em>. She braves a look back at him, pushing the joke out gingerly: <strong>“</strong>even if i had webbed feet?”</p><p>“Even then.” he answers, bemused, his eyes glittering gold to accompany the easygoing mood only a recent feast allowed him. Bella always expected his moods to be lifted in those days directly after his trips, but this time it seemed to reach new heights to the point where she wasn’t completely sure on how to handle it.</p><p>She focused herself, trying to come up with a completely plausible idea of a life where he wouldn’t love her. “What if you had fallen in love then?”</p><p>“With someone else?” He sounds almost incredulous, though she can easily picture him with a series of other women, in different times, different lives even. Could picture him young and hardy, right after the wartime, ducking a beautiful nurse into a battle-won kiss in an immortal picture; taking a beautiful dame out to a gallant soiree in the prohibition era, wooing her over champagne and jazz and art deco stylings. Taking another undead beau, even, forever chiseled into statuesque beauty; falling in love with another human girl altogether. There were so many other leaves and strands mere simple choices could’ve taken him on, never to be hers. She hums in agreement to his question, the only answer that doesn’t betray how heavily it weighs on her to even think of these things.</p><p>“Can’t picture it.” He takes her hand off the book with ease, pressing his own fingers in between hers, drawing his thumb up and down the side of her hand softly. His voice sounds so assured, like it would be a most improbable life. It might’ve been, really, given how long it took for her to take him off his track. Maybe, if she had never turned up in Forks at all, he would’ve stayed perfectly content and alone. This thought does nothing to ease the weight the other idea affords her.</p><p>She leans her body into his, her head settling on the crook of his shoulder where his neck is exposed. “What if <em>I</em> had fallen in love with someone else?”, she proposes. To which she silently retorts in her mind: <em>As</em> <em>if</em>. There could never be anybody after him from the moment they met and she knew it.</p><p>“Even then.” It made her heart flutter, how he said this, how mutual it seemed, even though he couldn’t ever know how she felt— how deeply she burned was a knowledge all her own. “I hoped you would, at the beginning. Hated the thought of it. But wanted it, too.” She tries to think back to those early days where there was so very little but the overwhelming green and… Him. How much he seemed to hate her, completely and instantly. And how much it affected her that he did.</p><p>Her eyebrows furrow, puzzled when she asks with incredulity similar to his: “With whom?”</p><p>“Mike Newton, Tyler… Anyone, honestly. So long as you forgot me.” She almost mock gags at the thought but ends up laughing at the idea.</p><p>“Can’t picture that <em>either</em>.” Ironic mirth gives way to seriousness again, as it often did with them as she continued: “What if I had died, that day with the car crash?”</p><p>He pauses, as if she had posed a question of the highest importance. “I don’t think I would’ve survived that myself.”</p><p>“Why?”</p><p>“That was when I realized I— couldn’t keep avoiding you… It would have to be your choice.” She tried to peek at his face, trying to find clues into what exactly made that turn happen for him, whatever red string was pulled taut that day when everything went perfectly wrong. “I wasn’t <em>strong</em> enough.”</p><p>Bella mulled it over. “What if you weren’t there to save me either way?”</p><p>“Bella… If you die, how would I keep on living?” He poses the question so somberly and yet so softly it almost slips beyond her reach. Away from where she can smooth it out and make it better, at least in any way that would make him happy.</p><p>She doesn’t try to look at him, fixing her eyes instead in her messy bookshelf and it’s immortal titles. Had he a beating heart, she knew it would drum beneath her ears. She was no Juliet, this much she knew; Bella wasn’t<em> young at heart,</em> in fact she could not even recall if she had ever been; or, even, fair and beautiful. Hell, Bella was barely making time for her social calls, let alone balls. He was a prince cut from the pages of romance novels, but she was <em>a reclusive flaw</em>. It was a miracle they found themselves in this predicament; surviving despite all previous occurrences. <em>Hewas a miracle</em>.</p><p>“Well, if i continue this— <em>path,</em> inevitably, i’ll die.Either you make peace with that, or you change me.Then you’ll never have to ask that question again.” of course, changing her was a matter of <em>want. </em>A desire Bella could never truly be certain of, at least not since the events of that fateful September day.</p><p>“I know.”</p><p>She knew he wanted to undo that damage, and lord: <em>he tried</em>, but there’s only so many pages one can tear away. This was stuck in Bella’s memory. They were tragic from the start, their mismatched fates aligning to make their love something to die for— or <em>by</em>. She sighs, exhaling the scent of his nightmares, making room for more darkness within. This poison: her <em>blood.</em></p><p>“I know.” he repeated, almost too lowly for her to hear it. “Still, I have to try.” Little did he know, death was her built in feature. Not a bug, not a flaw: it was her <em>imperative. </em></p><p>The choice was laid out for his picking and he teetered on the edge. Consumed by options where everything went wrong, where she resented him completely. Forgetful that he is— oblivious maybe— of the fact that Bella had already swallowed the pomegranate seeds, as it were. She was already too deep into the entrance to the underworld to return, now. At least not unscathed. They had waltzed past the point of no return completely unaware of it and every step she ever took had this certain destination; which would continue to be so for as long as her heart beat stubbornly inside her chest. Death bound and deathless, aging and saved.</p><p>If only he knew how little she cared for her soul if he would accompany her through the descent to hell. Give her the chance and she will never be Orpheus, Bella will never look back.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>“I want to meet you in every place I ever loved. Listen to me. I am your echo. I would rather break the world than lose you.”<br/>― Amal El-Mohtar, This Is How You Lose the Time War</p><p>for when lovers can scarcely picture a choice that would set them on a completely alternate path and kill this darling.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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